Can't Live Without You
by pippermint
Summary: He couldn't imagine living life without her, nor could he bear the reality that she was gone. Then again, he never thought that he would have to. Roy&Riza, new summary, post series, COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **My second FMA fanfic, third if you're counting songs.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, never have, and probably never will.

**Warning:** Spoilers for series and movie, character deaths, violence, profanity.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Discovery**

"_Give this to General Mustang immediately."_

That had been the order given to the young private, and he had jumped at the opportunity to carry it out. He had smartly saluted his superior officer before grabbing the medium sized brown envelope off the desk and walking out the door, shutting it behind him. It wasn't every day that someone of his low status got to see a person as important as the General. Hero of the Ishbal Rebellion, the Flame Alchemist, the one who had revealed the true identity of the former Fuhrer Bradley, and, more recently, the man who had vanquished the beings from the other side of the Gate. The young private's idol.

He proceeded down the hallway toward the General's office, which was located on the other side of the building. He walked in a way that was so rigid and formal that as he passed a group of female officers, one was heard to make a crude remark . He held his head up high and kept walking, keeping his mind focused on the goal. With his free hand he pulled out a few imaginary wrinkles in his already stiffly starched uniform, then smoothed down his already twice-combed and slicked down thick, dark brown hair. After all, one never gets a first chance to make a first impression, and this was one first impression he didn't want to screw up.

He had joined the military three months earlier. He had come from a big family of farmers out in the countryside. His mother, father, aunt, three brothers, and five sisters all lived on the outskirts of a small town that no one knew or gave a damn about. For a living they planted crops, harvested them, fed the animals, and collected their shit to make fertilizer to do more farming. He felt choked in that life. Choked by the hard labor of plowing, choked by the distinct smell of chickens and pigs, but most of all choked by the dullness of it all. He could see his life stretched out in front of him: he would meet a nice girl from around the town, marry her, have some kids, die of old age, and be buried under a tombstone bearing the words "loving father" or "hard worker" or some other mundane bullshit like that. He couldn't have that; he had to make his mark on the world, to be remembered a hundred years from now as someone important, someone who had made a difference.

And so he had awakened one balmy summer night, packed up money, food, and a change of clothes in a worn haversack, and left his house behind, leaving behind him only a note telling his mother not to worry. He was merely seventeen at the time. He had reached Central within a week, and had immediately applied for a position as a private in the military. They had rejected him, saying that he was too young, and so he had hung around the city for a few months, doing odd jobs to earn money, and counting down the days until the day he turned eighteen. Then he had reapplied and been accepted. It was the best birthday present of his life. The chance to rise from the ordinary to the ranks of the extraordinary.

The young private was violently jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of a single gunshot being fired off. He looked around, but the halls were deserted. In fact, the majority of this side of the building near the General's office was unoccupied, as most of the people who normally occupied those rooms had not reported for work yet. He broke into a jog, then started running flat out as he got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Later he would say that he knew something horrible had already happened even as he raced towards his destination.

He reached the office door and stood there for a moment, breathing hard from running down the hall. He opened it with a mingled feeling of dread and a terrible curiosity. The inside of the room was dim; the lights were off and the blinds were closed. The sunlight that filtered in through the cracks illuminated the room with a pale, shadow-ridden glow that somehow appeared ominous. At first glance, though, nothing looked out of the ordinary. The room was arranged as always, with oak shelves facing each other, a black leather sofa on the wall with the door, and a large desk facing the door with a comfortable swivel chair for the General behind it. Then he saw it. A dark liquid forming a puddle that seemed to originate from the space behind the desk. And the young private knew in his heart, even if his brain was in denial, exactly what had happened. That same terrible curiosity that had lured him into the room compelled him to look behind the desk.

He found a raw scream tearing itself from his throat, found himself hurtling out of the office in horror, back down the hall, yelling at the top of his lungs, yelling for someone, anyone, to come and help.

* * *

"Suicide," the medic repeated. "No doubt about it. The angle of the weapon, the way he was found: it couldn't be anything else but that."

"Thank you, sir. You understand, I just wanted to be sure." Jean Havoc sighed heavily, then pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pants pocket and lit it. He tried not to look at the large dark red stain that now marred the carpet of the office, nor the black body bag that now contained the corpse of the man who had been his superior officer and comrade for many years. And yet he couldn't keep the images out of his mind: Roy lying dead on the ground, his right hand still limply holding the gun that he had used to take his own life. Roy's face, the eye not covered by the eye patch, the right side of his face bloody and gruesome from where he had fired the single bullet that had entered right at his temple.

To keep himself from breaking down right then and there, Havoc looked around the room. The medics were still hovering over the area behind the desk, writing stuff down on official-looking clipboards and talking in quiet tones. Breda, Falman, and Fuery were talking amongst themselves, all with varying looks of somberness on their faces. Fuery had tearstains on his cheeks. Havoc spotted the private who had found Roy in the first place. He was sitting on a chair in the corner, looking very pale, pasty and on the verge of collapse. Havoc was willing to bet that he had never before seen a dead man up close.

Havoc took a long drag on his cigarette before taking it from his mouth. "Hey," he said, walking up to the young private. "Are you okay?" It was a stupid question; no one would be all right after having seen the man they had idolized with a piece of lead through his skull. But it was the only decent thing that Havoc could think of to say at that moment.

The guy looked up at Havoc before shaking his head slowly. "Why did he do it?" he asked, a significant quaver in his voice.

Jean looked at the private with a gaze that told of both his own sadness and the pity he felt for the man he was talking to. "I think he had his reasons."

"What? Why the hell would he do something like that? He had everything! Wealth, fame, popularity, status! Why would anyone - "

"No." Havoc suddenly interrupted, and looked at him sharply. "He didn't have everything. He didn't have her." And with that he replaced his cigarette in his mouth, knowing that before the day was over, the entire pack would be gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Wow. Can't believe I wrote this stuff. One morning the idea popped into my head and it just wouldn't leave me alone. I'm glad no one knows where I live, because I have a feeling that a few fangirls may be after my blood. Oh well, don't forget to review. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Orange juice rocks! And so does Virginia Beach!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, but I do hope to own the complete collection some day. Maybe I'll put it on my Christmas list.

* * *

**Six Months Earlier**

The newly reinstated General Roy Mustang leaned back in his swivel chair and gazed around his office, just enjoying his new space. It was large and well furnished, with bookshelves and his favorite black leather couch from his old office. Maybe he had new surroundings, but it was still nice to have something familiar to make him feel at home. He inhaled deeply, filling his nose with the combined smell of fresh carpet and the rich, woody smell of the oaken bookshelves. He turned around in the chair to enjoy the view from the window behind the desk, probably one of the best that Central Headquarters had to offer. It overlooked both the bustling markets that the city was famous for, filled with merchants and their colorful merchandise, and the serene greenish gray backdrop that was the distant mountains to the west.

His hand moved unconsciously up to his face. It had been doing that a lot ever since the incident over two years ago, that fateful night at Fuhrer Bradley's house. Roy was still getting used to the notion of an eye patch. There had been more than one time when he had walked by a mirror, and not immediately recognized his reflection. It was definitely an adjustment to make.

Roy got up from his chair and paced around his desk. His eye landed on a picture that was on one of the bookshelves. It was a group photograph that had been taken a few years ago, before all these changes happened. In the picture, Roy stood next to Riza, who stood next to Havoc, who looked like he would rather have been off smoking. Al stood timidly on the other side of Roy. In front of the suit of armor stood a sullen Ed wearing his usual red and black attire. He was the only person in the front row that was standing up; Breda, Falman, and Fuery were all kneeling. Breda was looking nervously to his left, where Fuery was trying to contain the small, squirming ball of fur that was Hayate.

He found his gaze lingering on Riza. She was smiling ever so slightly, and Roy wondered what had been on her mind at that very moment. Her auburn eyes were twinkling with a happy light, and her normally pale cheeks were tinted by the pinkish blush that she had applied that day. Roy remembered having jokingly asked her if she would wear a little makeup for the picture, and he also remembered his surprise when she had actually done it. He had not been able to figure out her reason, and so he had concluded that she wanted to keep him guessing. Whatever her motives, Roy thought that she looked beautiful, though that might not have been attributed entirely to the makeup. He thought that she looked beautiful every day.

As if from far away, Roy heard a knock at the door. He pulled himself out of his thoughts just in time to hear a familiar voice from the hallway. It was Riza, telling him to open the door so she could give him his paperwork. Roy shuddered to think about how much paperwork there must be if Riza couldn't manage the door herself. He tore himself away from the picture and went to the door. As expected, there was a pile of papers in Riza's arms that was larger than Hayate, and that was saying something when you realize that Hayate was no longer a puppy, but an equally excitable and fully grown dog.

Riza walked past Roy into the office, carrying the stack of papers to his desk. As she passed by him, he smelled the faint scent that always lingered around her; a mixture of her lavender soap, the subtly sweet perfume she always used, and the stiff cottony smell of the uniforms that they all wore. Roy had grown to love that familiar aroma.

After setting the papers down, Riza turned to leave. She, too, had been recently promoted. Although Roy was happy for her, he regretted the fact that they no longer shared an office. He had many fond memories of the old office, most of then involving Riza making him do paperwork. Still, her new office was right next door, which meant that she could still threaten him by yelling through the wall if necessary. Some things were never meant to change.

"Try to finish those today, sir." Riza left the office, shutting the door behind her.

Roy sighed and went back to his chair, swiveling around a couple of times before stopping and turning to his desk. Time to actually do some work. He started on the top sheet of paper, which was a contract to refinish the privates' quarters. He put his barely legible signature at the bottom. Next, a request for a smoking room. Havoc must have slipped this in the pile somehow. Roy crumpled it up and threw it into the trash can. He would have to talk to Havoc later.

Two hours and about two hundred pieces of paper later, Roy came across something that didn't look like it belonged in this stack. It was a piece of delicate blue stationery, and the words on it were handwritten in neat cursive. A note from Riza, asking him to have a late lunch with her in the courtyard. He smiled. It figured that she would only invite him to lunch if she could be sure he had done some work first. A glance at the clock told Roy that his rendezvous was not for another hour. He wasn't sure whether to be insulted by the fact that Riza thought it would take him that long to do his work, of grateful that he had a little bit of time to prepare. In the end, he settled on the latter, and, struck by a sudden idea, grabbed his jacket and jogged out the door, heading towards the shops in the city.

* * *

Sitting in the grass of the HQ courtyard, Riza was kept company by nothing by her thoughts. She considered the life she had led in the military over the past years, all the events that had changed it, all the people that she had met. She thought of Edward and Al, the two brothers that had sacrificed everything for each other. Though she didn't know where they were, she felt in her heart that they were doing all right. She thought of Maes Hughes, whose lighthearted demeanor she still missed. And Riza thought about Havoc, Breda, Fuery, and Falman, for without their aid all would have been lost long ago. But most of all she thought of Roy, the person who had played such as major role in her life. She had sworn to protect him on his quest to become fuhrer and right some of the wrongs inflicted by the military, and now it seemed like her duty was nearly done. But without this duty, she wondered, where was her place in Roy's life?

* * *

He strolled through the streets of Central until he found the store he was looking for. As he entered, the bell on the door chimed, and a chubby woman in her fifties soon came from the back of the establishment to behind the counter, giving Roy a warm smile.

"What can I do for you, dearie?" she asked, gesturing at the many types of merchandise that flourished in the store. "I'm sure we have what you are looking for somewhere in here."

"Well, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for."

"Maybe I can help with that." The woman tapped her chin thoughtfully before continuing. "Who's it for, first of all? It is family?"

Roy shook his head. She gave him a long, appraising look.

"I see. Is she a friend or a girlfriend?"

A sigh. "I'm not really sure of that either."

"But she is more than a friend?"

Though a bit doubtful, Roy nodded.

"I think I have just the thing." The woman smiled again, causing her dark brown eyes to twinkle. She moved into the back of the store, and in a minute she returned, carrying what she had picked out.

"How are these?"

Roy, who had been staring into the counter, looked up at the sound of her voice. He smiled when he saw what she was holding.

"I think she'll like them." He paid for his purchase and turned to leave.

"Good luck on your date, dearie," said the woman.

"But it's not a…" Roy's sentence trailed off as he considered the possibility of what she had just said. Was he really going on a date with Riza? Too uncertain to protest, he left the store with a simple "thank you", hearing the bells on the door chime his departure.

* * *

A small picnic had been laid out on the grass, complete with sandwiches, sodas, a pie, and a few of the more brazen ants. Riza had put rocks on each corner of the small red and white checkered picnic blanket to thwart the breeze. Now she lay back on the ground, enjoying the pretty scene around her. The picnic was in the shade of a large oak tree that had been planted here long ago, and it was a near-perfect day for an outside meal. Waiting for Roy, she began to feel drowsy, and a few minutes later Riza dozed off amid the soft ground of the courtyard.

* * *

Reaching the courtyard, Roy quickly saw the food set up neatly under the large oak. But is was not until he had walked over there that he saw Riza, fast asleep. Unsure of how to wake her up, he set his shop purchase down on the picnic cloth and looked at her for a moment, not being perverted or anything, just taking time to drink in her appearance. She was lying on her back, and he could see the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The blonde bangs that covered her forehead were being ruffled by the breeze.

_She looks beautiful asleep_, he said to himself.

Almost as if his thought had awakened her, Riza stirred, sitting up and stretching. As her eyes opened, she noticed Roy there for the first time. Her eyes widened ever so slightly and she immediately straightened out her jacket. She moved her hand up as if to salute, but then she changed her mind, instead smiling and indicating for Roy to sit down. No point in being so formal right now.

There was an awkward silence for a minute, in which Riza absentmindedly brushed grass of her jacket and Roy watched an ant that was making off with a bread crumb. At least someone was enjoying the picnic.

"This looks nice," Roy said finally, tearing his gaze away from the industrious ant.

"Thank you, though I must admit the pie is store-bought. I've never been a great cook." Riza said to the grass.

Desperate to prevent another silence, Roy remembered what he gotten on his trip to the store. He reached out for the object that was behind the picnic basket and handed it to Riza. "Here. I got these for you."

She looked up to see Roy holding out a dozen creamy white roses. Their stems were wrapped together and tied with a simple lavender ribbon. Riza felt a smile edging its way onto her face as she accepted them.

"They're beautiful, Roy; thank you." Roy felt a shiver go through his body at the sound of his name. He had forgotten their recent rule, that whenever he and Riza were not working, they would be on a first-name basis. They knew each other too well to do anything else.

After that, the ice was broken, the awkwardness held at bay. They ate the sandwiches while making pleasant small talk, which varied in topic from Hayate and promotions to coworkers and the horrors of paperwork. Riza fought the urge to laugh when Roy told her about Havoc's smoking room request. They agreed that the pie was quite good.

When the food was gone, they lapsed into another silence. This one, though, wasn't awkward; just the quietness that comes from being full and being in good company. The shadows grew long, the breeze died down, and the courtyard grew cool to signal the approaching evening. The very air seemed to give off an aura of relaxation. Technically, Roy and Riza were supposed to be inside, working. Fortunately, there wasn't much else to do besides paperwork, and, as Roy knew perfectly well, that could be put off until tomorrow. For now they sat in the grass, their backs resting against the courtyard's immense oak. It was then that Riza decided to voice the thoughts that had been troubling her all evening.

"Roy?"

"Hmmm?" He sounded half asleep.

"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"I'll finish the paperwork tomorrow, I swear," he mumbled.

Riza gave a small sigh. "No, not about that."

He sat up a little, hearing an odd note in her voice. He shifted around to face her, noticing as he did that they were only sitting about two feet apart. "Then what's this about?" Something clicked in his head. "This is why you wanted to have lunch together, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." A pause. "I've had something on my mind for a while now, Roy. Ever since our lives got back to normal, or at least similar to normal. Things are different than they used to be. People are free to be themselves; it just feels so much more… relaxed than it used to. And I'm probably not the person you'd expect to be saying this, but I think its better this way. Everyone seems happier. But… somehow, I'm not quite happy."

Roy looked up at her but said nothing, sensing that she had more to say.

"I'm not happy because I feel like there's something's missing." Another pause. "Do you feel that way?"

Somewhere in the course of the conversation, their faces had gotten closer, so that now there was barely a foot between them. Luckily, their breath smelled like pie. Roy found himself unable to answer; the sight of Riza's face so close to his own seemed to deprive him of the ability to speak. He could see the contours of her cheekbones, the fine blonde hairs that grew on her forehead where the bangs met the rest of her hair. He could think of nothing but the beauty that was in front of him.

"Roy?"

She was there, so close that her breath was tickling his face. Still unable to speak, he gave only response he could, leaning forward until his lips brushed against hers. A quick kiss, but a sweet one, and their very first. Riza looked at him intently, and for a moment he thought she was going to slap him. Instead, she returned the kiss, a long one filled with pent-up passion. When they broke apart, Roy's mind was reeling. This was turning into one of the best days of his life. After a while, he remembered what Riza had asked him.

"Riza?"

"Hmm?" Now she was the one who was sleepy.

"To answer your question from earlier… I think something's missing too." He felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and realized that it was Riza's head. She had fallen asleep again. Roy smiled, knowing that what he had to say could wait until tomorrow. For now, he laid his head on top of hers, and put his arm around her shoulder, feeling her warm body against his. Soon, he too fell asleep in the familiar courtyard, leaning against the friend who had quickly become so much more.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Aww… I think this is my favorite pairing. They're just so cute together. I'm almost sorry that this is a tragedy. Almost. And I dunno why they kept falling asleep. Maybe there was something in the office air. Review, or I'll… ok, just review. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Gahhh…. I haven't updated this for over a month… The good news is I now have the rest of the story roughly planned out in my head, along with a few of the more dramatic details. There will probably be seven chapters, unless something gets combined or stretched out.

**Disclaimer: **FMA not mine. On with the story.

* * *

It had now been three months since that picnic in the courtyard, and these past three months had probably been the best of Roy's life. He had never felt so happy, so complete, so without worry about what the future would bring. He was content to enjoy the present, and the joy that each day brought him. 

"Roy?"

"Five more minutes."

"No, you're already late. Get up."

He reluctantly opened his eye to see Riza hovering over him, a slightly annoyed expression on her face. Tardiness had never been her thing.

He sat up in bed, trying to shake away the last vestiges of sleepiness. He took in his surroundings, a queen sized bed that still had an imprint on the opposite side, pretty, pale blue walls, simple, clean white furniture, beige carpeting that looked like new even though it was a few years old. Riza's apartment bedroom, and for the last month, his. They were splitting the rent, after all. He hadn't really brought much with him besides clothes and books, though that wasn't much of a loss. He liked her stuff better anyway.

He yawned and looked up at Riza, noticing as he did that she was fully dressed in uniform, gun and all, while he was still wearing boxers. _How long has she been up_? He wondered. _And how did she get up so quietly?_

And more importantly… "What time is it, Riza?"

"She glanced at her watch, a simple black band with a silver face. "About twenty minutes before eight."

"Almost eight!" he asked incredulously. Work started promptly at eight.

"That's right. And trust me; I tried to wake you up earlier. You're not a very light sleeper, Roy." She leaned over and kissed him briefly, then straightened up and walked over to the door, preparing to leave. "There's no point in both of us being late, so I'm heading out." She paused. "You are getting up now, right?"

"I am. I can't afford to be too late."

"See you at work, then." The door closed, and mere seconds later Roy was asleep. Being late one day wasn't so bad. He didn't hear the door open, but he did hear the shot that was fired into the apartment. He jerked awake to see the barrel of a pistol retreating behind the closing door. He had forgotten who he was dealing with. Wondering where she had shot, it was not until he got out of bed that he saw the small hole in the headboard, mere inches above where his head had been a moment ago. Roy could hear Hayate barking from the living room, obviously awakened by the noise. He smiled a little. Some men might have been scared off by a woman who could easily kill him with one shot, but for Roy, it was just another reason to love her.

* * *

Roy walked in around 9:30, largely due to the ridiculous amount of traffic between Riza's apartment and HQ. That was one of the only things he was going to miss about his old place: the proximity. This earned him an icy glare from the older woman at the front desk. He smiled at her in return, and started moving towards his office. He was almost there when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. The faint smell of cigarette smoke was a dead giveaway. 

"Mustang, nice to see you could make it today."

Roy turned around to greet Havoc, who was walking down the hall a few paces behind. "Good morning to you, too."

Havoc laughed as he caught up with Roy. "A little while longer, and it wouldn't have been morning."

Roy grumbled as he unlocked the door to his office, noticing as he did that Havoc followed. Sitting down in his chair, he swiveled around a few times, seeing that Havoc was still there, apparently admiring the group picture on the bookshelf. When the man picked up a book off the shelf, Roy knew something was going on. The book was Advanced Alchemy.

"Havoc, why are you here?"

"I'm looking at this book, obviously. I happen to be dating a woman who finds alchemy interesting. Her name is Julie Morgan."

"No, really."

"I just told you."

"Havoc, there are three things wrong with that. First, Ms. Morgan asked me out yesterday. Second, that book is in Latin. Third, you're holding it upside down. What's this about?"

"Okay, okay, fine." A defeated Havoc shoved the book back on the shelf and sat in the chair across from Roy. He paused, as if thinking of how to best phrase what he was about to say. "You've been acting funny for weeks now. What the hell is going on with you?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Me? I'm just the one who was followed into his office."

Havoc leaned in, studying Roy's face for any sign of what was going on. There was none, just the usual barely noticeable smirk. He leaned back, unsatisfied. "Why were you late today?"

"Traffic." As soon as he said it, Roy inwardly cursed.

"Traffic? You live practically next door." Havoc frowned. "Unless…"

"What did I do now?" He already knew exactly what he was supposed to have done, but playing dumb was probably the best course of action here.

"…you spent the night with someone."

"Not a crime, is it?" Roy looked at the papers on his desk, feigning boredom. He picked up a small packet regarding an assignment.

"Who is she? It's Julie, isn't it?"

"No, you don't know her." _At least not the way I do._

"Is she hot?"

"Get out, Havoc." _Yes, she's very hot. And so much more._

"Fine, fine. I'm leaving. You don't have to be so rude."

"Wait a minute, take this with you." Roy held up the packet.

"Why? Isn't that your new assignment?"

"It's about the gas leaks in southern Central. I don't know if flames will be much help with that."

"Oh, right." He took the papers and turned to leave. "Before I go, though, one more question."

"Havoc…"

"Have you given any more thought to the proposal I sent in? You know, the one about the smoking room."

"Get out, Havoc."

"But I… I'm going," he said, noting the all too familiar I'm-going-to-fry-your-ass-in-five-seconds tone in Roy's voice. "See you at lunch."

* * *

The cafeteria at Central was pretty much the same as it had been for years. The walls were still an off-white color, the floor was still rough concrete, and the same rows of dull metal tables still dominated the room, with the food line reset into one wall. At a table in the back sat Roy, Riza, Havoc, Fuery, Falman, and Breda, talking over mediocre macaroni and cheese. 

"I'm telling you, they should really fire whoever is cooking this crap. I think I just swallowed a bone," complained Breda.

Roy looked up from his food. "Big talk for a guy who's already on his second helping."

Breda opened his mouth to retort, but Havoc beat him to it.

"So, everybody, guess what?"

There was a general inclination of heads along the table. Roy felt his heart sink a little, dreading what was to come but too late to prevent it.

"Our resident ladies man is back in business."

Next to Roy, Riza choked a little on her coffee, but the others were too busy harassing Roy to notice.

"Who is she, dammit?" Havoc.

"How'd you meet her?" Falman.

"Is she hot?" Breda.

"Is she nice?" Fuery.

"I've decided to keep my personal life to myself."

"Well, at least tell us her name."

"It's R…Rosie." Roy winced slightly. His real girlfriend had just crushed his toes under the table. He didn't dare look at her now. "That's all I'm saying."

Disappointed by the lack of information, Havoc and the rest returned to their lunches. For the rest of the half-hour, Roy was quiet, all too aware of the silent woman that was sitting next to him.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

"Come in."

He took a deep breath and walked into Riza's office, being sure to close the door behind him before leaning against the wall. Riza's office was similar to his, only with an air of impeccable neatness and without the swivel chair. She was at her desk, diligently doing paperwork that Roy suspected was the pile that had been sitting on his desk earlier today. Setting her pen down, Riza looked up, a tense look in her auburn eyes. When she didn't say anything, Roy decided that was his cue.

"I'm sorry about lunch."

Silence.

"I know it was weird."

"How did Havoc know you were dating?"

"I guess he's smarter that we thought."

Riza relaxed a little. "You didn't tell him?"

"Of course not. He asked me why I was late, and when I said traffic he assumed I didn't spent the night at home. That's all."

She nodded and returned to the paperwork, but looked up again when Roy walked over came over behind the desk. He pulled to her feet and into an embrace. She hesitated before returning the hug, a little conflicted between love and the need to be professional. They stood there for a moment, just enjoying the warmth of the other's body.

"I would never do anything to screw this up. I love you, Riza."

"I love you too," she said softly.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Aaacckk, I think I just choked on a piece of fluff. This chapter seemed far too lighthearted considering the genre, but maybe it fits. I really don't know. Tell me in your review. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Hmm… I haven't updated this since August. How sad.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, so leave me alone.

* * *

"I _know _that something is going on." Havoc slammed his tray down on the cafeteria table.

The others looked up at him in curiosity. "What are you talking about now?" Breda said this between mouthfuls of macaroni and cheese.

"Mustang, of course. He's been acting even weirder lately."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Fuery looked up from his lunch. "I haven't seen him much lately."

"Exactly!" Havoc pointed at a confused Fuery. "Yet another example; he hasn't come to the lunchroom lately either."

"I don't blame the guy, really." Breda had just discovered a large chicken bone in his macaroni. Falman looked down at his equally unappealing lunch, and then decisively pushed the tray back.

"And what about this _Rosie_ he told us about?" Havoc put air quotes around the word Rosie, and nobody was quite sure why. "Since when has he not wanted to brag about his latest lady friend?"

"I dunno, maybe he's serious about her." Fuery looked thoughtful.

"Yeah, right." The others murmured in agreement.

* * *

A few floors above the cafeteria, a quieter lunch was being eaten. Roy and Riza were sitting on the couch in his office, eating Chinese take-out. Riza had somehow mastered the ability to use chopsticks, but after a few frustrating minutes of dropping pieces of orange chicken, Roy had dug the fork out of its plastic covering. Now they sat in comfortable silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts.

"Roy?"

"Hmmm…" His concentration was fixed upon an elusive water chestnut.

"What are your plans now?"

"Finishing my food."

Riza sighed at her boyfriend's inattention. "No, I mean… What are your plans for the State now? Now that the Fuhrer and the rest are gone."

He looked up at this, still chewing. "I honestly don't know. I've thought about it, but there's not much to do. Maybe I think better under pressure."

Riza nodded, and the silence was back.

"Roy?"

"Hmmm…"

"Let's go out to dinner tonight."

He looked up. "Sure, did you have a place in mind?"

"There's this place a few blocks from the apartment that I know." She neatly wiped her mouth with a napkin, and put it in the empty container on her lap. "It's called Nunquam."

"That's a strange name."

"They're supposed to have excellent food though. It's a very fancy place; I think they have a black-tie dress code."

"A place called Nunquam with a black-tie rule. Interesting."

"Anyway… If we're going, I need to get something to wear."

"You're going shopping?" Roy sounded nervous all of a sudden.

"Yes."

"Am I coming with you?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"Okay. Great." Roy's relief was a little too obvious, and he got an icy glare for it.

"I'll be going now." Riza threw her food container away and stood up, smoothing out her already starched uniform.

"Wait; lunch isn't over yet. Let's do something interesting."

Riza raised a suspicious eyebrow, wondering what he had in mind. "Go on."

"Breda got me a chess set for Christmas, and it's been sitting on this shelf ever since. Let's play." Roy reached up to grab a rectangular box from the highest place on one of the bookcases.

Soon the pair was seated cross-legged on the carpet, the pieces spread out on the checkered board. As much as he hated to admit it, Roy was losing horribly. Several black pieces, including the queen, were already sitting off of the board on Riza's side, the victims of his careless moves. He made a mental note to get Breda a puppy for his birthday.

"Check."

Roy moved the king out of harm's way. Or so he thought.

"Checkmate."

Riza was looking right at him, a faintly victorious smile hovering about her lips. He scanned the board for a way out, but found none. He had lost the game, and very quickly as well.

"I should have guessed you'd be naturally good at something like this."

Riza, who was repacking the board and pieces, looked up. "I'm not."

"You're telling me you're not good at chess?"

"Not naturally, no. Breda taught me how." She put the box on his desk. "He told me that without the queen around, it gets much harder for the king to survive. It's not impossible, of course, but it is hard. The queen is the most powerful piece on the board, and the king is the most limited in movement except for the pawns. Seems strange, doesn't it?"

"It does." Roy was already planning a strategy for the next time they played.

"Anyway, I'd better be going. Can you pick me up from this address in about three hours?" She hastily wrote the address of a clothing store on the unused pad of paper on Roy's desk. The pen clicked with a crisp snap as it closed, and she handed the sheet to him.

He clasped the paper in his hand, as well as hers. Roy pulled her close, and they kissed in the privacy of his office. They broke apart soon, though, and she headed for the door.

"Bye, Riza."

"I'll see you soon," she replied, and the door shut behind her.

* * *

"You know, he really should consider my smoking room idea." Havoc mused as he lit a cigarette.

He, Breda, Falman, and Fuery were in the huge office that they still shared, despite the fact that they now ranked high enough to have their own offices. The company was nice, and the room was familiar. With no work to do, they had chosen to play cards instead. Right now, they were engaged in a fierce game of Go Fish.

"Whatever, Havoc. Got any threes?" This was Falman.

"Go fish. You know what's weird?"

"No, what?" Fuery.

"Mustang lives about two minutes from here, and yet he's been late on and off for months now."

The others groaned; they were tired of Havoc's suspicions.

"Just leave it alone, man. Got any fives?" said Breda.

"Go fish," replied Fuery. "You know, if anyone has the right to be late, it's got to be Hawkeye."

Havoc looked away from the dying cigarette in his hand. "Why's that?"

"She lives practically on the other side of the city. If anyone less responsible lived there, they'd be late all the time."

At that moment, something clicked in the back if Havoc's mind, but he tried hard to keep his face expressionless. He succeeded in this a little too well, and the others stared at him questioningly.

"Everything okay, Havoc?"

"Yeah… sure. I'm fine. I've never been better."

"Then why are you still holding that?"

He looked to his hand, where Fuery has gestured, and found that the fire of his cigarette had nearly reached his skin. He hurriedly ground it into the ashtray.

They went back to playing cards, but Havoc wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying to decide whether or not he had just learned the true identity of Rosie.

* * *

For some reason, Roy had been feeling nervous ever since Riza had left to go shopping. He had tried to deny it, for Central was a fairly safe place and he had no logical explanation for how he felt. And yet, he had a strange and ominous tingle in his spine, almost like a bad omen. The more he ignored it, the stronger it became. Looking for a distraction but reluctant to do actual work, he set up the chess board and started moving both the black and white pieces. It wasn't as fun as playing with Riza, but it still helped to pass the time. And the tingle seemed to subside.

It had been almost an hour since Riza had gone when a barely noticeable tremor shook the entire HQ, followed sound similar to muffled thunder. The tingle in Roy's spine started up again, even stronger that before. He walked briskly to the window, but saw nothing at first. A little boy on the street below was walking with a woman, presumably his mother. The boy suddenly pulled on her arm, and pointed into a direction that was not visible from the office window. She gazed where the boy had indicated, and Roy thought he saw a flash of terror cross her face. But then it was hidden, and she scooped the child up in her arms, and began quickly back the way she had come. Away from the direction in which he had pointed. Away from the thunder. The tingling refused to be ignored now.

Still at the window, Roy heard sirens blaring nearby, saw ambulances racing towards the thunder.

There was a sharp knock at the door just then, but whoever was outside didn't bother for an answer. Roy turned around to see a young raven-haired woman entering, looking more than a little panicked. "General Mustang?"

"Yes." He found that his voice was shaking as much as hers, and struggled to pull together some composure. "What's happening out there?"

"There's been… there's been a gas explosion in southern Central. We don't know the details yet, but… it's safe to assume that there will be injuries, if not casualties. Your help was requested, sir. I have to inform others now." And with that, the woman left as quickly as she had entered.

Roy barely paused to grab his jacket before leaving the office, slamming the door behind him. As he jogged down the long hall that led to the elevator and the stairs, something crumpled in one of the pockets. Mystified, he took it out, and found a small piece of paper, and on the paper the address of a clothing store in Central. It was written in familiarly neat print. Riza's handwriting. Actually, Roy realized, he had heard of the place before. Next door to the clothing place was a bookstore he used to frequent, back when he liked to walk down to southern Central.

The hallway seemed to spin slightly as Roy stopped dead, realizing the significance of the store's location. The fingers that held the paper tingled, and a relentless horror began to rise. Thoughts of what hope told him was not true, what common sense told him was a definite possibility, and what fear told him had already happened forced Roy to pass the elevator that was being impossibly slow, to instead take the stairs down to the ground floor, to forgo the military cars for his own, and to drive far beyond the speed limit towards the chaos in the southernmost part of the city.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Please review. There's probably only one chapter after this one, two if I feel like being ambitious. Which I don't. Ciao for now. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Sorry about, you know, not updating for almost a year. I procrastinate sometimes.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it.

In south Central, a fire blazed for several blocks, started by the gas explosion and helped along by the winds. Moving towards south Central in his car was none other than Roy Mustang. He heard the sirens but didn't really hear them, for at the moment there was only one person on his mind: Riza, the love of his life.

He watched the street signs, the address of the clothing shop Riza had gone to already burned into his memory. He was so engaged in thought that he had to screech on brakes. The block ahead was blocked off by orange cones and a policeman urging Roy to go back the other way. He could clearly see a cloud of smoke a few blocks ahead. Ignoring, the man, Roy made a sharp left, revving the engine down a cross street.

He didn't know what he'd do if - no, he couldn't think like that, not now, not ever. Then he saw it: the shop was in this block, perfectly intact, and Roy stopped the car outside, leaving the engine running as he got out and went inside.

It was quiet in there, and at first Roy thought that everyone had gone home early because of the danger. He didn't see the woman until she walked hurriedly out from behind the mannequin.

"Hello? May I help you, sir?"

She was blonde, and for one brief, shining moment, Roy thought that the woman was Riza. But no, this woman was different: shorter, plumper, with watery blue eyes that were the exact opposite of Riza's fiery, passionate ones. His heart sank, and as it did he realized that she had turned red. He had been staring at her for a little too long.

"Sir?" She sounded nervous now.

"I'm sorry… I'm looking for someone, and for a minute I thought you were her."

"Oh, that's all right. But I'm afraid no one else is here, and I'm closing the shop early today because of whatever's happened." She gestured in the direction of the chaos.

"Well, did someone come in here earlier? A pretty woman, a blonde?" His anxiety shined through in his every word.

"Yes, and she left a few minutes before you came in. She said she was military, and that she wanted to see if she could help with the situation. She didn't even get her dress first." The woman gestured to the counter behind her, where an auburn dress the exact shade of Riza's eyes laid, encased in plastic. Roy could tell from where he stood that she would look amazing in it. But the uncomfortable feeling that had momentarily subsided was coming back full force now, and he felt his feet carrying him to the door. The woman said something, but Roy had no idea what it was. He didn't care, either. She didn't matter. Only one person in the world mattered right now.

Roy's car sat where he had parked it, but he realized that the roads were blocked off. He set off on foot then, first walking quickly, then jogging, then flat out running, something he hadn't done in quite a while. He passed the road block, and began to smell the odor of acrid smoke, hear the whine of frantic sirens. It gave him flashbacks to a time that he'd rather forget, and he ran faster. The whine of the sirens slowly blended with the yells of police and military men. Slowly but surely, these sounds blended with the sound that Roy had been dreading the most: The tragic wails of the hurt and the dying and the damned.

_Where are you, Riza?_

The center of the chaos soon presented itself to Roy's one good eye. The gas explosion has occurred at the intersection of two roads. A hole the size of a delivery truck had formed in the street, and blue-orange flames licked the sides. The buildings on all the corners had been severely damaged if not completely destroyed. Bricks, mortar, and wood littered the streets like some horrendous confetti. An uncontained fire had erupted from one of the worst buildings. Ambulances were everywhere, but the injured seemed even more numerous. And the bad feeling inside him continued to swell.

_Riza._

A few of the soldiers hastily saluted Roy before going back to their tasks. He wasn't in uniform, he realized. He was a civilian in the eyes of those who didn't recognize him. And then, out of the chaos and smoke, he saw a familiar face.

"Havoc!" Even with all the noise, Havoc's face immediately turned towards Roy. He hastily saluted and jogged over, looking panicked and calm at the same time. It was a mark of the seriousness of all this that Havoc wasn't smoking.

"Mustang! Good to have you here, this isn't going well. People are still trapped in the buildings, and we're having a hard time getting them out because every structure in this whole area seems damn near close to collapsing. As far as alchemy, no one here can do much, including you; and Armstrong and his troops haven't gotten here yet. It couldn't get much worse. Sir." He looked positively exhausted.

"All we can do for now is help the other soldiers, then. Have you seen Hawkeye around here?" Roy tried desperately to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"No… I thought she took the day off. Said something about going shopping on her way out earlier." Havoc looked absolutely confused now. "Why? Do you think that she's here now?"

Roy weighed his options. Telling Havoc that he knew Riza'a whereabouts would lead to awkward questions later. _If there was a later_. Roy shook that thought from his head, but a million more replaced it._Why wasn't she with Havoc and the others? What was happening to her right now? Did she need him? What was the last word he had said to her?_ His heart was racing, and he feared the worst.

"I just have a feeling."

Havoc's eyes narrowed for a brief second before their conversation was interrupted. A woman had come up to them, a middle-aged woman with tears running down her bruised and scraped face. She was clearly hysterical. A military man ran barely a pace behind her, trying to restrain her.

"Have you seen him?" she sobbed. "Have you seen my son? He -"

"Ma'am, you're going to have to wait in the ambulance. You're hurt. We're going to take you to the hospital." The man with her looked uncomfortable with having to be so close to such pain.

"No, not without him!" She dropped to her knees in front of Roy and Havoc, her torn dress snagging on the rough pavement. "He's my only one, don't you see? He's my life, he's my only child!" She was screaming at all of them now.

Roy knelt in front of her. "What's his name?"

Her eyes went slightly wide. "Aaron. He's got brown hair and brown eyes and he's small for his age; he'll be eight next month." She seemed relieved that someone was actually listening to her. "He was wearing a black shirt today, I think." There were tearstains on her cheeks, and fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"We'll look for him, ma'am, I promise. But you have to leave now. You're bleeding and it's still dangerous out here."

She nodded in consent and allowed the man to escort her towards an ambulance. She looked back once, giving Roy and Havoc a grateful look.

* * *

_Where are you, Riza? I love you too much for this._

It was nearly a half hour later, and Roy was fighting to stay calm and help Havoc. He was completely numb, trying not to think about what was happening. Maybe she wasn't even here. Maybe she had helped out and left already. Maybe…

The building on the nearest corner completely collapsed. The soldiers nearby jumped back in surprise as mortar and bricks rained down anew. A sign bearing the logo of the shop fell on top of the pile in front of what used to be the entrance. And from inside the building that the soldiers had thought to be deserted came the faint cry of a child. One or two of them raced over in time to see a small boy emerge from between two collapsed planks. He was wearing a dusty black shirt. He had brown hair.

"Isn't that the kid?" Havoc said.

"I hope so." Roy replied quietly.

It was. He was shaken and scared, but virtually unhurt. Roy and Havoc walked over to where another soldier was trying to comfort him.

"Hey, kid. Your mother will be happy to see you." Havoc looked extremely relieved.

"She was here?" His eyes lit up.

"Yep. She went to the hospital, but she'll be fine."

His whole face lit up in a smile that quickly dimmed. "Have you seen my friend?"

The soldiers exchanged glances. "Who's your friend?" asked someone.

"She was in the shop with me. She came in after the first bang happened, and she told me I had to leave. I was scared, but she helped me get out. And then the second bang happened. She said… she said to leave her 'cause she couldn't get out right now. So I left, and now I'm here."

"Do you remember what your friend's name was, Aaron?" Roy's voice was tense.

"No…yes. She said to call her Hawkeyes." He looked up at everyone. "I think she might be hurt."

_Riza._

* * *

Author's Note: Next chapter is probably the last. Please review! 


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Guess I'm the only one who didn't think chapter 5 had a cliffhanger. This is labeled as TRAGEDY, and the end of the first chapter was a dead giveaway (no pun intended). But I guess people want to know how it happened… hope it lives up to your expectations. It's more than what I usually write.

**Disclaimer:** I only own Aaron, and his mom, and the other minor characters from previous chapters.

-------

He felt as though all the breath and life had been sucked from his body. Somehow he managed to remain standing and relatively calm. His hands had begun to shake, however, and he felt vaguely nauseous. Havoc knelt in front of the boy, Aaron.

"You said you friend is still inside? You're sure of that?"

The boy nodded, his eyes now going wide.

"And where is she exactly?"

"Well… before the place fell down, I was standing near the back, but in the middle. That's where she found me. So she must be close to there."

-------

"Riza?" Havoc and Roy had entered the demolished shop through the way that the little boy had gotten out. It had been an easy task for him, but this was not the case for two grown men. They were already scratched and sore by the time they came to a place where they could stand up easily. The light was dim because of the obstructed windows, and also fading because of the late hour. "Riza!" They were yelling alternately now, scanning the wreckage for any sign of another human being. Roy could still hardly breathe.

All around them were fallen and demolished bookcases, some with books still on their shelves. A cash register stood to the left, somehow left intact. Roy leaned against a plank of wood that rested diagonally against something else. With an ominous _crack_, the plank split in two, sending a dictionary, among other items, falling down from above. The dictionary struck Roy squarely on the shoulder, causing him to groan and forcing him painfully to his knees. Havoc looked over in worry, but Roy motioned that he was fine, and to keep looking.

And then he wasn't fine. From his position on the ground he could see below some of the fallen debris, and from under another plank there protruded a human hand, pale and still. _Riza._

"RIZA!" He began to claw furiously at the debris covering the person, exposing another hand, an arm crisscrossed by scratches, then finally a face. Her face, so peaceful that she might have been simply taking a nap. A thin stream of blood had trickled out of the corner of her mouth and onto the floor beneath her.

Havoc came up behind him, then stopped short, shocked. Then: "Is she alive?" Roy was silent, and seemed to not be able to move, so he moved closer, pressing two of his fingers into Riza's wrist.

"She's warm, Mustang, and her heart's beating. She's alive, and we have to get her out of here."

-------

He'd never really minded hospitals. Even during the war, he hadn't hated them. The smell of death in a hospital was nothing compared to the assault on the senses that one experienced on the battlefield, especially if the death was your own doing. Roy let out an involuntary shudder, and Havoc glanced over at him. They sat in the large waiting room, facing a row of people with expressions similar to their own: apathetic and solemn, not allowing hope on their faces for fear of being let down.

The thought of what he'd do without her didn't cross his mind — he wouldn't let it happen. It wasn't the events of a person's life that made them lose it; it was thinking about it too much, replaying it inside your brain. And there was no point of thinking like that anyway. She was going to be fine. _She's going to be fine. She's going to be fine._

"Are both of you here for Ms. Hawkeye?" A man wearing a doctor's uniform stood in front of them, his face unreadable.

"Yes." Roy wondered how his voice still sounded normal.

He motioned for both of them, and all three men walked out of the waiting room and into the ICU. The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid there's not much we can do for her."

"What do you mean?" Roy had stopped walking. He was suddenly aware of the blood that spotted his shirt. Riza's blood. _Riza._

The doctor sighed again and turned around to face Roy. Havoc was staring at the doctor as if he was the devil himself. "We've given her something for the pain, but…" He stopped, a bit afraid to meet Roy's gaze, which had turned wrathful. "…I can almost guarantee you that she's not going to make it. She's bleeding internally, and we can't stop it."

"There's nothing you can do? Nothing at all?" This was Havoc.

"Besides making her comfortable, no. I'm sorry. Does she have family that should be contacted?"

"Well… she and her family are… estranged at best, and —" Havoc began.

"We're her family." Roy said quietly.

The doctor nodded. "Would you like to see her?"

------

She was sleeping when they walked in, and she was still asleep when Havoc left. He was still on duty, after all, and Central would be looking for him. He left asking Roy to tell Hawkeye that he had been there if she woke up, but Havoc wouldn't have been surprised if his demands fell on deaf ears. Roy hadn't moved from his chair since they had entered Riza's room, not had he said more than a few words. Roy was still sitting there, later, when he looked up to see Riza looking back at him, her head inclined slightly off the pillow, small tears in her eyes.

He was at her side in a moment. He bent down, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. She was paler than usual, and looked a little different with her thick hair spread out behind her on the pillow, framing her heart-shaped face.

Roy searched for something to say, something that would keep this from being real. "Aaron's fine." He reached out for her hand and held it loosely.

"And his mother?" she asked.

"She'll be fine too." _And so will you._

"But I won't be." She said it quickly, as if trying to force out something unwanted.

He had been prepared to deny it, but she caught him off guard. Thinking it would be too cruel to agree, he said nothing.

"They told me already. I was awake for a little while before." She looked up at the ceiling, and the tears ran back across her cheeks towards her ears. Roy wiped them away with his sleeve.

"I love you, Riza."

She held his hand a little tighter.

"Havoc had to leave, but he told me to tell you he had been here," Roy said softly.

"Tell him I said thank you… and to quit smoking. It's bad for him."

"I'll do that."

"I don't want to leave you, Roy." She whispered this, and her eyes became moist again. "This can't be happening. This isn't supposed to happen, not this way. Not for a long time."

He leaned over and kissed her again. There wasn't a word in the world that could express what he was feeling just then, as if some monstrous force was crushing him from the inside out. Had he ever really taken the time to look at her, to appreciate? He was sure that he had. Until now, that is. She was beautiful unlike anything he had ever seen. Delicate and strong in the same breath. A mind that would have forever challenged his. He watched her face, burning into his memory something stronger than any photograph. Even as he looked on, she was changing. Riza was getting paler still, and her lively auburn eyes turned to dull brown. The grip that she held on Roy's hand first tightened, then slackened at an alarming rate. The rise and fall of her chest became staccato. He pulled her body close, and felt her words tickle his ear. _I'll always love you, Roy. I love you too much._

_Riza…_

------

The funeral had been nearly unbearable. He barely remembered it at all, having blocked most of it out of his memory. People, himself included, had spoke words that were supposed to bring comfort to others. Those words, those meaningless words that had tasted like ash in his mouth. And the sight of her lying there had seemed so perverse, so twisted. The Riza Hawkeye he had known was full of life and passion, not the vulnerable body he now saw before him. He saw the numbed expressions upon the faces of Havoc, Fuery, and the others, and knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing in his life would be the same, not at home nor at work.

He was back at work today for the first time in a fortnight. Most of his time away from work had been spent in a motel, though he had a home. It was Riza's place, and he couldn't bear to go back there. Not now, not ever, he didn't think. He'd have to think about her too much if he went back, and he couldn't afford to do that. Everything he did and everything he touched there would remind him of her. Roy clung desperately to his final strands of sanity at the cost of depriving himself of everything that was left of her.

Even in the confines of his office he couldn't escape from the intense grief that was slowly overtaking him. It rose within him like some terrible bird taking flight. He refused to look at his desk, at the paperwork that was more intolerable than he ever could have imagined. He stared out the window without actually seeing, stared into his bleak future.

Behind the books on one of the shelves was a single bottle of whiskey, and it was this that Roy felt for. Finally his hand closed upon the rounded bottleneck. Not bothering to get a glass, he drank deeply. It took him away, but only for a moment. Then he needed more. He wondered how long he could keep this up.

_Knock, knock._ "Mustang?" It sounded like Havoc, but at this point Roy didn't trust himself to recognize voices. He capped the bottle and stuck it in a top drawer.

"Come in." His words sounded a little slurred.

It was indeed Havoc. In addition to appearing solemn and in need of a smoke, Havoc also looked nervous. Like he was about to say something that might be regrettable…

"What is it?"

"This…" He paused, uncomfortable. "This is not a good time to ask, but… I have to know something."

Through his drunkenness, Roy suspected that he knew what was coming.

"What exactly was there… between Hawkeye and yourself?" Havoc felt guilty for asking. "Was there somethi —"

"Get out." His voice sounded raw now. Among all his emotions, Roy felt a new one stepping forward: anger.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to —"

"Get the hell out of my office, Havoc." Roy opened the desk drawer where he had hidden the alcohol, and reached further back, past stray paperclips and old papers. Along the back of that drawer was another drawer, smaller and hidden. Inside that drawer was a handgun. Wondering if he would have done this had he been sober, Roy pointed the gun at Havoc's chest. He saw the other man's eyes get slightly rounder. Havoc backed up slowly until he was at the door, opened it without turning around, and left, giving Roy a look that was half fear, half pity.

Roy realized that the hand holding the gun was shaking uncontrollably. He placed the handgun down on his desk. Until a minute ago, he had forgotten that he owned it. It had been a birthday present from Riza. Some would call that strange, but he had loved it. He gazed at it, shining dully against the dark wood.

He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. He'd have to face Havoc eventually, and all the others too. He'd have to go back to Riza's place to get his things, to go through her things. He'd have to find another place, one without memories. He would have to move on with his life. There wasn't another choice… was there?

At that moment, everything that he'd been feeling for the past two weeks spilled out like Pandora's box. Anger, helplessness, regret, and grief. Terrible grief like nothing he'd ever felt before engulfed him in waves. The words she'd spoken to him on her deathbed played over and over again in his mind.

_I'll always love you, Roy. I love you too much._

_I'll always love you, Roy. I love you too much._

_I'll always love you, Roy. I love you too much._

There wouldn't be a day where he didn't think of her smile, and there wouldn't be a night where he didn't long to have her lying next to him. He knew in his heart that nothing and no one could ever take away the void that she had left. A void that extended long before these past few months, back to when he'd loved her silently for years. She gave him a reason to want to be here. How could things have gone so terribly wrong? But maybe this was karma for the terrible things he'd done, the things that he would have liked to forget. Maybe it was tragic fate. Whatever the reason, he knew one thing for sure: he couldn't do this anymore.

Impulsively, he stood up and picked up the handgun that lay on his desk. He checked to make sure that it was loaded. It was. Completely. There would be no games of Russian roulette, no chances to back out. It was too late now; it had been too late two weeks ago. The whiskey that coursed through his veins made Roy unafraid. A vision of his lost love danced before him as he raised the gun to his temple. _I love you too much, Riza._

-------

**Author's Note:** Whew, it's complete. Finally. Sorry for taking that insanely long hiatus; I didn't choose my penname for nothing.

Shameless Self-Promotion: If you missed Edward in this story, then you should probably go and read _My Silver Lining_. It's my new obsession right now. And if you want a healthy dose of silliness, I highly recommend _The Winry Rockbell Theme Song_. Suggestions for new stories are welcome.

People who reviewed and are therefore awesome beyond belief: DeadlyMaidenTsuki, RR Forever, picesgirl01, YourFavoritePlushie, fAteD lOvE, kuroxdoragon, Bizzy, blknblupanther1, Dailenna, loyalsoul, Rachel Elric, Forgottenspirit636, Miss Mustang, fighterNOTlover, Nilmiel and Kenya, Shadow Dreamer 27, Scenro, Wolfborg007, kahel16, Mrs. Riza Mustang, and all the anonymous people too.

Don't forget to review this chapter!

See you later.

- UltimateProcrastinator


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